


More Than Just Towels

by orphan_account



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stevie goes to get David the perfect engagement gift and ends up finding something for herself.





	More Than Just Towels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dream_out_loud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream_out_loud/gifts).



When David first moved to Schitt’s Creek he was a bit of an enigma. He was different in more ways than were visible to the naked eye. His wit was cunning and he appeared to not care what anyone thought of him. A general distain for most things emanated from him. Distain paired with his snippy comebacks made him the perfect, albeit unlikely, cohort for Stevie. 

Until Patrick came along, Stevie hadn’t met anyone truly capable of keeping up with the type of banter she David seemed to relish in. When she met Patrick in the entry way of Rose Apothecary, the first words out of his mouth were a blatant jab at David and his ridiculous choice to call a product “body milk.” She immediately knew she liked Patrick. He was good for David, as David always needed someone to call him on his bullshit. From her first interaction with Patrick, she knew he did just that. 

David was less than thrilled at how quickly Stevie and Patrick hit it off, uniting their ability to prod and entirely unravel him in the most ridiculous of ways. Somehow they were able to completely unnerve him and snap him into reality better than any two people ever had been. However, all of Stevie and Patrick’s combined years of experience with David did absolutely nothing to prepare them for the true enigma, the Rose Matriarch, Moira Rose. 

Cabaret rehearsals were starting to become all-consuming. While Patrick voluntarily got himself into this mess, Stevie was more or less roped into the whole ordeal. They both should have known better than to agree to any sort of theatrical production involving Moira Rose. 

Dance instruction from Moira went something like this: 

“Stevie! Dance like an Indonesian scarf in the wind, darling!!” Moira called out. All Stevie could do was exchange a helpless, unknowing glance with Patrick. 

“Patrick, dear, I’m aware your shortened frame wasn’t entirely designed with dancing in mind, but could you please try to elongate your spine and move in a more graceful fashion??” she chided Patrick. Stevie could not help but laugh at Patrick’s expense. 

“Stevie. Could you try not to move like a cat helplessly entangled in a ball of twine?!” Moira pleaded. Patrick and Stevie both just sighed. 

Moira was a talented for an amateur director, but she was far from a dance instructor. It’s hard to take constructive criticism when it comes to you in the form of an obscure Moira Rose reference. How does an Indonesian scarf dance? What even is an Indonesian scarf? After a couple weeks of minimal progress on the dancing front, they decided they needed help outside of what Moira Rose had to offer. That is how Stevie and Patrick found themselves taking supplementary dance lessons with Derek after their grueling and vague rehearsals with Mrs. Rose were finished. 

After their final dance lesson with Derek, Patrick saw an opportunity to discuss something with Stevie that had been weighing on his mind. He’d been meaning to for a while. “Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Patrick, I’m pretty sure I talk to you more than anyone does these days.” she retorted with a smirk on her face.

“Sadly that’s pretty true. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something in particular, though. Not related to our riveting upcoming performance of Cabaret.” 

Her smirk still plastered across her face, she teased him. “You have a life outside Cabaret?!” 

“Less and less of one lately,” Patrick admitted. He was getting visibly nervous. His cheeks started turning a strawberry color, and his light brows were furrowed.

Patrick was clearly nervous about whatever he wanted to talk about. “If you’re going to tell me you’re breaking up with David I need to stop you right there. He is too annoying when he’s depressed. Been there, done that, and I’m all out of spa Groupons to try and bribe him back to normalcy.” Teasing was her go to, especially in lieu of emotions. 

“Uhhh no.” Patrick began. He was wringing his hands and was visibly nervous. “Quite the opposite, actually? I, um, I’ve been thinking about, uh, asking David to marry me.” 

Stevie was stunned into silence. That was a first, Patrick thought. 

“Considering you’re his best friend and the only person whose opinion he respects, I wanted to ask you for your permission…” he looked up and offered her a shy smile. It was rare that Stevie didn’t immediately have a comeback or snarky comment for a situation. This time she was absolutely silent. 

Finally, Stevie jumped to her feet yelling “PATRICK!!!!” and pulled him into an uncharacteristic hug. “OF COURSE you have my permission to take David Rose off of my hands for eternity. Literally nothing in this world would make me happier. For him. And you. Of course!!” Stevie laughed. That was the Stevie that Patrick knew. He smiled warmly at her and thanked her 

“You do realize, though, that along with the whole ‘being David Rose’s person for the rest of your life’ thing that you do have a more challenging task in front of you?” Stevie said. “Possibly even more terrifying, too. Patrick… you have to pick out an item that David Rose, purveyor of taste, will like enough to wear for the rest of his life.”

“Funny you should mention that.” Patrick told her. “I actually already took care of it.”

Patrick then told her about how he commissioned a jeweler in Elmdale to create four gold rings similar to the four silver ones David wore every day. The rings would be ready tomorrow. Patrick just had to figure out how and when to ask David to marry him, which seemed like an even bigger challenge.

XXXXX

Holy. Shit. Her best friend is getting engaged. Her best friend is getting MARRIED! Well, presumably David would say yes. One could never know the bounds of David Rose’s true self sabotage, but not agreeing to marry Patrick… that would be one of the dumbest things she had seen David do yet.

A best friend gets their newly engaged best friend a congratulatory gift… right? Hell, how would she know. She was new to the whole “best friend” thing and “people you like getting married” thing. Oh god. What gift does one buy David Rose? The person with the most particular taste who previously had everything he ever could have dreamed of owning. Who owned the nicest store in town, who could (and regularly did) snag whatever he wanted at a discount. 

Alcohol. Everyone loves alcohol. But…a bottle of wine seemed trite. Even if it is a nice bottle. She thought back to their conversation after the first night they hooked up. She remembered discussing their preference in partners with a highly explanatory wine analogy. Maybe a nice bottle of red wine? David was, after all, choosing red wine for the rest of his life. That was a cheeky option perhaps, but still it seemed insufficient. 

Her mind drifted, thinking back on so many of their experiences together. All the good times they had over the years. The not so great ones too. Their hookup? Not so great. Well, it was nice on a physical level. Not so healthy on a friendship level. They had a good thing going and there was no need to take it to the bedroom. It just took them a bit to figure that out. 

She thought about the first day when the Rose family rolled up to the motel. Their designer luggage stuffed with designer clothing was strewn about the motel lawn. They were collectively disasters dressed in clothing that made it blatantly obvious they came from a different world. Disasters that landed in the front yard of her family’s motel in Schitt’s Creek. 

Stevie’s first impression of David was, to put it nicely, awful. David came to the front desk needing towels… and a business center. She’d delivered her first deadpan roast of David on that day asking if he wanted her to book him a treatment at the hammam spa they had on site. David later chased her down the sidewalk of the motel asking her about cleaning their rooms and then told her that he thought she was kindof rude. He continued to complain about towels, having asked her three times already for a towel. She finally relented and went to get him the damn towels, telling him that she was only doing it because he called her rude, which she took as a compliment. David Rose and those damn towels. 

Towels. It finally hit her. If David was getting married, David would be moving out of the motel. Stevie wouldn’t be there to bring him towels anymore. It was a wonderful gift and the perfect throwback to their first encounters. Equal parts sentimental and snarky.

XXXXX

Nowhere in Schitt’s Creek or the surrounding area sold towels that she would deem “nice enough” for David Rose. She decided to order a nice set online and have them delivered to her apartment. They were thick, soft, and a beautiful bright white. They felt and looked like clouds. Surely they would meet David Rose’s standards, especially after years of dealing with the Rosebud’s towels.

Deciding to take the gift one step further, Stevie opted to have the towels monogrammed. It was a special touch she knew David would appreciate. She had never monogrammed a single thing in her life. It took some research on the motel’s ancient computer to find a place that even did such a thing. The things she did for David Rose. She learned that the Elmdale Design Shop, a t-shirt screen printing shop, also did embroidery and monogramming. 

She made the drive from Schitt’s Creek to Elmdale the next afternoon, convincing Mr. Rose to man the front desk under the guise of needing to run some errands for Cabaret. Mr. Rose launched into some long-winded spiel about how lovely it was that she was getting so invested in the musical and how happy he was for her stepping outside her comfort zone. The conversation carried on so long that Stevie almost considered telling him what she was _actually_ doing.

After a short drive, she pulled up to the nondescript metal building that looked like at one point it was some sort of warehouse. Her phone and the sign out front told her that this was the Elmdale Design Shop. 

She opened the car door and hopped out, bag full of towels in her hand. She locked her car and made her way into the store. Upon walking in she was visually assaulted by literally hundreds of T-shirts and hats hung on the walls of the store. 

She walked up to the counter where a young, dark headed man stood. 

“Hi, I’m needing to get some towels monogrammed.” She said, sitting the bag of towels on the counter. 

The man looked up at her, expressionless and said “Sorry. We don’t actually do that.”

“Oh. Well. I thought your website said you did?” She said with a bit of confusion. 

Suddenly the man’s face shifted into a kind yet mischievous smile. “I’m kidding. We definitely do monogramming. I’m Jamie. How can I help you?”

Normally she would be the sarcastic one in a conversation, the first to crack a joke. She let out a soft exhale, and pulled out the towels. She and Jamie discussed different fonts, sizing and colors. They kidded around a bit, and ultimately settled on a classic black font with a simple “DR” embroidered on the bottom of the towels. 

Jamie said he would send her a proof before embroidering the towels. She thanked him, tossed her messenger bag over her shoulder, and headed out the door. She reached her car, opened the door, and just sat. She started to think about Jamie. He was funny. He was different. 

It also helped that Jamie was very attractive. If Stevie was in a bar perusing for randoms, she definitely would have noticed Jamie. He had tousled and shaggy dark hair, dark brown eyes, and wore a tight v-neck shirt that showed that he liked to work out but didn’t spend every free moment doing so. Dark wash jeans on his long legs. A pair of worn red converses. Okay, Jamie was hot. She definitely would think Jamie could meet her needs for the night had they met in some dark smoky bar. She would have given it a shot. Jamie would make a great random. But they hadn’t met in a dark smoky bar. They met in the Elmdale Design Shop.

On the way back to Schitt’s Creek, Stevie thought about her own life. Only David Rose could end up in Schitt’s Creek under the most dramatic of circumstances and manage to find the love of his life in a business major turned business partner that showed up quite literally out of nowhere. It was different for Stevie. She grew up in Schitt’s Creek. Spent the majority of her life here with the exception of the short amount of time she was away at college. 

She spent her days playing solitaire behind the desk of her family’s motel that was now _her_ motel. The only people that tended to come through the motel were long-haul truckers and family members of people she had known her whole life. A romantic happenstance like David and Patrick’s meeting was unlikely to happen to her. Sure, she’d met Emir there. That ended on less than pleasant terms, though. While he was no long-haul trucker, he was constantly on the go moving from motel to motel. Probably dating motel employees along the way. 

For the first time in a long time Stevie began to contemplate what she wanted for herself, for her life.

XXXXX

**Unknown Number (3:45 pm):**  
Hey, this is Jamie from the Elmdale Design Shop. I just wanted to send you a proof to double check the font with you before we get these towels set up on the machine. [Image attached]

 **Stevie (3:46 pm):**  
I might have changed my mind. Do you have one of those curly q type fonts? 

**Jamie (3:50 pm):**  
Um, yes. We certainly have those… Didn’t you say these were for your newly engaged male…friend… though? 

**Stevie (3:52 pm):**  
Completely kidding. He would murder me if I ever put something in that font within a ten-foot radius of him. You would hear him yelling all the way in Elmdale. Stick with what you sent me. It’s great. 

**Jamie (3:56 pm):**  
Will do. Would hate for you to get murdered. 

**Stevie (4:02 pm):**  
But… now that I’m thinking about it… tacky bachelor party shirts could be _very_ amusing in the coming months. I’ll get back with you on that. 

**Jamie (4:04 pm):**  
I see you like to live on the edge. 

**Stevie (4:06 pm):**  
One foot over the cliff at all times. Sometimes one drunken foot. Keeps life interesting. 

**Jamie (4:07 pm):**  
I’d say. So I’ll shoot you a text when these are ready. Or you can shoot me a text with any mischievous shirt and signage ideas at your leisure. 

Why couldn’t she have met Jamie in a dark crowded bar? It would have been so much easier. A quick, knowing glance. A nod towards the back room. If Jamie followed, Jamie was interested. If not, well then there was the answer. No harm, now foul. No overthinking it. No thought at all, really. Just an easy resolution and a good time. Emboldened by the almost whole bottle of wine she had consumed while sitting on her couch, she texted Jamie. 

**Stevie (8:45 pm):**  
So I’m thinking one of those tuxedo t-shirt that says “groom squad.” Is that something you could make happen?

 **Jamie (8:47 pm):**  
Drunkenly dangling a foot off the cliff tonight? But yes, I could make that happen. 

**Stevie (8:50 pm):**  
Buzzed dangling a foot off the cliff. Making out with people is my go-to when I’m boozy and drunk, not torturous t-shirt design. Seeing as the only lips on my face right now are my own, therefore I would not classify myself as drunk. Just buzzed.

 **Jamie (8:52 pm):**  
That was a very non-boozy, non-drunk statement right there. 

**Stevie (8:54 pm):**  
Noted. 

**Jamie (9:00 pm):**  
If I was there’d buy you a shot for what it’s worth. 

**Stevie (9:01 pm):**  
Also noted. 

A smile stretched across her face as she looked down at her phone. Jamie was funny and seemingly kind. Interesting, she thought. She finished off the bottle of wine and crawled into bed. 

The next morning, she woke up to a text from Jamie. She rubbed her eyes, and opened the text message. 

**Jamie (9:10 am):**  
What if the tuxedo t-shirt was orange? Like, traffic cone orange?

 **Stevie (9:31 am):**  
Devious. I like it. You might just be an evil genius. 

**Jamie (9:34 am):**  
You supplied the idea, I merely suggested a canvas. 

**Stevie (9:35 am):**  
You’ve never even met my friend and already know how to get under his skin. 

**Jamie (9:39 am):**  
Well, I think it’s pretty safe to assume that a guy who would appreciate towels monogrammed in a classic sans-serif black font would be mortified by a bright orange tuxedo t-shirt. 

**Stevie (9:42 am):**  
You have no idea just how mortified he will be. 

**Jamie (9:44 am):**  
You’ll have to let me know. Also, I should be able to get those towels on the machine today. I’ll let you know when they’re done and ready to pick up. 

**Stevie (9:45 am):**  
Thanks. Talk to you soon. 

Stevie put her phone down, and crawled out of bed. She set about taking a shower and getting ready for her day. Thoughts of all the horrible things she could have Jamie create that David would absolutely hate ran through her mind. Having someone like Jamie who could make the most monstrous things was going to be so much fun. Plus, getting to interact with Jamie more would be nice. Jamie was funny. He texted her this morning. That meant something, right? 

Later that afternoon her phone rang. It was Jamie. 

“Just wanted to let you know that the towels are all done and ready to go. I contemplated monogramming one in orange, but didn’t want to ruin such nice towels.”

Stevie laughed. “Hah. Thanks, yeah. I prefer to ridicule David with fancy cotton I did not pay an arm and a leg for.” 

“Are you demeaning the quality of my shirts?!” Jamie asked in a faux-shocked manner. 

“The orange ones, yes. Definitely. I mean someone looking to wear that color clearly isn’t driven by quality.” 

They both laughed. 

“I’ll be by later this week to pick them up if that’s alright with you. I’ve got some things I need to take care of in town.” 

“Sounds good to me. Worst case scenario you never show up, stiff me, and I have overpriced towels of my own.” He teased her. 

“Oh no. I definitely paid too much for those. I will be back for them. Thank you.” 

“Any time. See you later.” Jamie said. They both hung up. 

Stevie sat down her phone. She thought about how maybe they could have met at a concert. Shared a few drinks, and danced the night away. She wasn’t great at “dating” or showing interest when alcohol or other substances weren’t involved. Having something to lower her inhibitions was always helpful.

XXXXX

On the morning of Cabaret’s opening night, David waltzed into the motel lobby with what can only be described as a glow. His cheeks were shining. His face was twisted into a massive smile. His eyes were bright. She suspected she knew why he was there.

David brought a lovely bouquet of flowers with him to congratulate her on the big night ahead. However, she knew this glow was due to more than the impending Cabaret performance. She eventually pried it out of him- he was officially engaged. David said yes. Her best friend was officially getting married. 

After David left the lobby, she realized she hadn’t gone back to Elmdale to pickup the towels she ordered. Patrick told her they were getting engaged, he just failed to tell her when. Rude. Also, she thought Patrick was smarter than to spring such big news on Moira Rose while Cabaret was going on. She figured he would at least wait a little bit longer, giving her time to make it back to Elmdale. 

Instead, she needed to make it to Elmdale today. No one was set to check in this morning, and Mr. Rose was supposed to take over at the desk in thirty minutes anyway. She didn’t tell anyone where she was headed, afraid of prying questions from the Roses. David told her she was the only one who knew, and asked her to not tell anyone until after the show. Knowing the Roses as she did, they would overreact to her sudden departure and somehow force the secret out of her. She couldn’t take that chance. So she threw her messenger bag over her shoulder, tucked her phone under into the desk in the motel’s back office, hurried to her car, and headed to Elmdale.

XXXXX

Stevie rushed into Elmdale Design Shop. She knew she looked like absolute shit. Her eyes were still puffy, and noticeably red. Her shirt had remnants of undried tears. If you saw her you would think someone she loved had just suffered a gruesome, untimely death and she was in the throes of grief. Instead, it was quite the opposite. She was just so. Damn. Happy. Okay, maybe a little stressed and a little nervous too, but truly just so happy for her best friend. Actually, her best friends. Although Patrick was a more recent addition, she still thought very highly of him. He fit perfectly into their dynamic and she could not imagine a better partner for David and built-in friend for herself.

And then there was Jamie. Very attractive and funny Jamie. Shit, Stevie thought to herself. An absolute train wreck does not make the best second impression. 

Jamie turned around and was immediately caught off guard and immediately inquiring, “Um, hey there. Are you… are you alright?” 

With a hint of emotion, Stevie blurted out “Yes. Yes. Uh. It’s just been… it will be…a day. My best friend, David, finally got engaged. It’s opening night of the musical. I somehow ended up in a leading role? I can’t get this one part right no matter how many damn times I try. I have to dance. I don’t dance. I mean I do, not well. I’ve been learning. I have to sing in front of people for the first time. I just…”

“It’s a lot?” Jamie interjected. 

“Yeah. Yep. A lot. You could say that.” Steve sighed in agreement

“Well hey, it’s about lunch time. Why don’t we go grab lunch before you head back to your big debut.” 

“Um, that’s a really generous offer. Thank you. I can’t today, though. I just… I have some lines I need to go over before tonight. There’s a part I can’t seem to get right no matter how many times I try.” 

“I’ll help you read through them. Surely you aren’t just talking to yourself throughout the whole musical. Let’s go.” He came around the counter, not giving her much of an option. He flipped the sign on the door to indicate the shop was closed, and held the door open for her. “There’s a little diner around the corner. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s pretty good food. Do you want to ride with me or take your car?”

“Oh. I’ll just take mine if that’s alright. That way I can head out when we’re done.” 

“Sounds good. You can follow me if you want. I’ll pull around in a second.” 

Stevie got into her car and sat the towels in the passenger seat. She stared at the steering wheel for a moment. She was stressed, obviously. But maybe she needed this. She shouldn’t turn down lunch with a conventionally attractive, decently funny, and seemingly nice person. He had promised to run her lines with her, so at least she was getting some work done. Right?

Stevie and Jamie settled into a table in the back of the diner. She sat next to him so that they could share her copy of the script. The diner had the same overall feel as the Café Tropical, except the booths weren’t duct taped and the menu was a much more reasonable two pages as opposed to the roughly eight-page menu of Café Tropical. 

The waitress came over and took their drink order, two waters. Stevie decided carbonated beverages before the show were probably a bad idea. The last thing she needed was anything that could cause her stomach to bubble and tighten any more than it currently was. They made friendly small talk until their waitress returned with their waters and took their order. A chicken sandwich for her, and a burger for him. 

Jamie asked what exactly the musical was, and Stevie told him Cabaret. He didn’t have much experience with musicals, but she told him the set was made to look like war-time brothel and that Mrs. Rose kindly borrowed half of the motel’s furniture to assemble the set. She also told him that originally the director wanted to do Cats, but it was deemed too political. Instead, they decided Cabaret was much lighter subject matter, which was ironic because Cabaret dealt with war, sexuality and Nazis. Jamie laughed, and Stevie just smiled. She felt light, a feeling she hadn’t felt in a while. A feeling she certainly hadn’t felt since starting Cabaret. 

After enjoying their conversation for a bit, Stevie returned to the task at hand. “Alright, so I’m Sally Bowles.” Stevie says. “I’m having trouble with this early scene. If you could read the part of Cliff, maybe I can finally work through this.” She pointed at the page, indicating to Jamie the part she was having trouble with. 

“I promised to buy you a drink – and here you are! Is gin all right? Of course it is. It’s all I’ve got.” She started. 

“Gin? I guess so. Why not?”

“Will you pour? I only have a few minutes… Why did you say you were English?”

“I don’t know, a whim. You ever had a whim?

“Constantly! I loved pretending I was someone else. Someone mysterious and fascinating. Then I grew up only to realize I am mysterious and fascinating. I’m Sally Bowles.” Stevie raised her glass of water towards Jessie, mimicking a toast. “Happy New Year, darling!” she said, and then her face started to turn red. “So, I’m supposed to kiss Cliff, uh you, here. So I guess we can just skip that part.” 

“Well, according to my script it says Cliff kisses Sally back, so, I’d be more than happy to kiss you back. You know, for authenticity and to help you nail the performance…” Jamie trailed off. 

“Well. I guess I could use all the practice I can get…” Stevie said, leaning over her corner of the table to lightly kiss Jamie. It was a soft kiss, nothing overly intimate. Just lips touching lips. She pulled back and stifled a smile. She looked up at Jamie, and he was blushing ever so slightly. She laughed, and Jamie did too. 

“I think you’re going to nail that part” Jamie teased her. 

“Let’s hope. Although, I must say, our Cliff isn’t nearly as attractive as you.” She smiled slyly, while gazing Jamie with an uncharacteristically fond expression. 

The waitress then arrived with their food. Apparently the waitress at the diner was as good at killing a moment as Twyla was. 

They continued to talk through their meal, talking about life, work, and friends. Stevie told Jamie more about David, the ridiculous formerly posh socialite that somehow became her friend. He told her he started the design shop after college when nobody in Elmdale wanted to hire a fresh out of school graphic designer with zero experience. She regaled him with stories of the motel, and told him that it somehow fell into her hands after her aunt’s death. 

Jamie insisted on paying for their lunch. He said she had more to worry about than a lunch tab. Throughout their conversation she almost forgot entirely about the monumental task in front of her that night. She gave Jamie a one-armed side hug and thanked him for the meal. They parted ways and headed back to their respective vehicles. 

After lunch, Stevie felt a wave of relief which was weird considering she literally had to speed back to Schitt’s Creek to make it backstage in time for Opening Night. She’d left her phone at home to avoid the general mayhem of the day, hoping that tuning everything out would ease her mind. With newfound confidence and calmer nerves, she was ready to take the stage as Sally Bowles.

XXXXX

Halfway through the first act, Stevie settled into a comfortable groove. Everything had gone well up until that point. The opening number was a success, and everyone had done spectacularly. She nailed the lines she ran through with Jamie earlier in the day. There was just one monumental task ahead of her, her solo of “Maybe This Time.” The lights were bright, she took a deep breath, and walked out onto the stage.

She was belting out the last bits of “Maybe This Time” when she looked into the crowd. She saw David smiling his proud, crooked smile. He was truly beaming. Her eyes drifted towards the left of theatre when she saw a familiar face with dark shaggy hair and piercing brown eyes. Jamie. Jamie came. Maybe this time, she thought to herself. She ended the song with a breathy, excited exhale. The crowd stood and applauded loudly. She smiled. Maybe this time after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I think Stevie is a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a partner to be happy in life. It was very fun to write her a potential romantic interest, though. Who knows what Stevie decides she will need in Season 6. Will she find a woman or man to share her time with? Will she become a motel mogul? Only time will tell.


End file.
